


Don't Gimme No Friction

by Amonae



Series: Holiday Gifts 2016 [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Betting, Crack, Established Relationship, M/M, Porn With Plot, Uniform Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 20:42:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9513824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amonae/pseuds/Amonae
Summary: Steve and Tony have an ongoing bet.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Robin_tCJ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robin_tCJ/gifts).



> For the lovely [Robin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/robin_tcj). I would apologize for this, but… seriously. You knew exactly where this was gonna go when you prompted that word (“friction,” come on of course it would lead to this). AND you told me to write filth. So this is times two your fault.
> 
> Thank you for being such a fantastic human, especially during a less-than-stellar year. <3
> 
> Thank you so much to [dapperanachronism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dapperanachronism) for giving this a look! You’re the best! <3

_Man up, Rogers. You can do this._

Steve took a deep breath and let his hand hover over the keypad for longer than was strictly necessary before inputting his access code. He forced himself to walk into the workshop as normally as possible—spine straight, chin up, shoulders back. His fist was clenched around the fabric of his uniform as his eyes scanned the room, catching sight of Tony working on something near the back.

“Run the numbers on that one again, J. But let’s add a variable of 0.006% and see if that helps with the tensile strength.” He waved a hand across the monitors before swivelling on his stool to face Steve, an easy grin on his face. “What can I do you for, Cap?”

“I need some adjustments made to the uniform.” His voice came out calm, which was more than he had expected, considering the pounding of his heartbeat in his chest. Christ.

“Sure. What’s causing you trouble?” Tony asked, motioning to the relatively-clear surface of the worktop. 

Steve set the uniform down and cleared his throat. “Well, it, ah… seems to be a bit… _tight_ , sometimes?”

“Tight?” Work-rough hands smoothed the material out, seeking invisible flaws in the fabric. “Tight where? Biceps? I should be able to adjust that within a few–”

“No, um… the,” Steve made an encompassing gesture at the groin of the suit, “area.”

Tony’s brows shot up before his features schooled themselves into a look that could only be described as lewd. “Oh, really? Only sometimes tight, right? Causes a bit too much… _friction_?”

Steve swallowed around the lump in his throat, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. “Look, nevermind. I can deal with the–”

“Oh no, we can’t have a uniform that’s too tight,” Tony answered, turning his back to Steve to examine the suit again, his fingers running over the inseam a little too intimately, in a way that made Steve’s cock twitch with interest in his slacks. “Come back in a few hours. Shouldn’t take me too long to adjust this and revise the specs for the new ones.”

“Thanks,” Steve mumbled, backing his way out of the lab as quickly as he could without outright running.

He was doomed.

\------

When he returned a few hours later, after a couple of rounds with the punching bag in the gym, the workshop was dim. Steve frowned. “JARVIS, did Tony go to bed?”

“No, Captain. I believe Sir is still working. He relocated to the back half of the workshop approximately an hour ago.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Steve’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“You’re very welcome, Captain,” the crisp voice answered, doors opening automatically without Steve entering a passcode. 

He walked through the tables and maze of tools and spare parts until he reached the back of the workshop where, sure enough, a few overhead lights were on above a long workbench. His uniform was laying flat across the surface. There was no sign of Tony, but there was a fresh pot of coffee on in the kitchenette and Steve could hear the sound of running water from somewhere within the back halls. He helped himself to a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter while he waited. It didn’t take long for Tony to resurface, in nothing but a pale grey muscle shirt and a loose-fitting pair of jeans that had seen better days. He was vigorously scrubbing a towel over his head, ignorant to the fact that he had a visitor. The glow of the arc reactor caught Steve’s eye, at least, until Tony pulled the towel off his head. Steve couldn’t quite stifle his snort at seeing the usually-meticulous locks curled with the damp and sticking up at all angles.

Blue eyes, bright with surprise, popped up to meet his own. “Oh. Uh… Wasn’t expecting you so soon, Cap. What time is it?”

“It’s been six hours, Tony,” he chided, pushing himself off the counter and stepping back over to the work bench. “Is it not done yet?”

 

“Huh? Oh, that. Yeah I was done with that ages ago,” Tony answered with a smirk, bobbing his head in the direction of the suit and Steve had to hold back another sound of amusement as a curl wound its way to brush against Tony’s temple. “Aren’t you going to try it on?”

Steve knew what Tony’s angle was, trying to get him all flustered, to activate some ancient sense of modesty that never really existed. Honestly, it’s like they all forgot how long he spent in the middle of a war—a lack of modesty and over-used cuss words were common. With a shake of his head, he simply turned his back to Tony at the same time he gripped the hem of his white tee. He heard the strangled sound and then silence. It put a satisfied smirk on his face.

If he’d known that was all it took to get Tony to shut up, he might have tried it sooner. 

He stripped with efficiency from that point on, reaching out to snag the suit before tugging it on. Sure, he didn’t particularly need to strip down bare-ass, but he’d never bothered to wear underwear in the suit before (it just added to the chafing) so why would he start now?

“Seems alright,” Steve answered, turning just in time to watch Tony quickly avert his attention to meddling with the coffee pot, as though he hadn’t just been caught staring. Steve just barely managed to stifle the smirk that threatened his features.

“You said it was only sometimes that it caused you trouble,” Tony answered, seeming to regain some of his composure as he fussed with Steve’s abandoned mug. “So maybe you should take it out for a test run?”

Steve allowed the grin to encapsulate his lips this time, letting his gaze sweep across Tony’s frame from head to toe, peering up through lowered lashes. “Oh, I think I can manage a test run just fine right here.”

The faintest hint of a flush spiralled across Tony’s cheeks. Steve counted it as a victory. 

“Right, well, I’d better show you all the new features then,” Tony started, clearing his throat and heading across the room, hands flickering through the air as he spoke. “I fixed the issue you were having with the zipper on the calves and replaced the mesh in the underarms, it should breathe better now.” He motioned to each body part as he spoke, licking his lips before speaking again. Steve’s gaze followed the movement. “But as for the, ah, whole _package_ situation, I made it a more flexible material in the inner shell of the cup and replaced the outer shell with something a bit stronger. So, more room for, ah, less friction?”

Steve folded his arms across his chest, his attention wandering from the swell of Tony’s lower lip to the soft curl of dark hair over his ear to the gentle glow of the arc reactor. He could already tell that the suit offered him a fair bit more room, at least he didn’t feel like he was about to break through it in a moment’s notice. “Seems good to me.”

“Oh, and I forgot the best part,” Tony quipped, lowering himself so quickly to his knees that Steve didn’t have time to fight back the flush. The brunette smirked up at him from where he was crouched, so, so close. “Built-in release mechanism. No more de-suiting for the, hm… _urgent_ needs.” Tony didn’t give him a moment to react, his nimble fingers catching a series of latches and letting the groin of the suit slither away.

With a soft noise of embarrassment, Steve watched as his cock sprang free, no longer restricted by the layers of fabric and polycarbonate. He could feel his cheeks flaring at the same moment Tony caught his eyes, a grin blossoming across his lips.

“JARVIS?”

“Yes, sir. I do believe this meets your requirements of ‘the first to turn redder than Iron Man’s–’”

Steve hissed a breath through his teeth. “Damn it, Tony… Please tell me that you didn’t actually design me a combat-ready crotchless suit.”

“You don’t like it?” the brunette asked from where he was still crouched on the floor, gaze raking along the exposed length of Steve’s cock. “ _Part_ of you likes it.”

With a groan, he buried his face in his hands. “You always knew you were going to win, didn’t you?”

“Steve, you blush faster than a teenager thinking about porn in church.”

“Jesus.”

“Exactly. And now, if you don’t mind, I think I’d like my reward.”

Steve barely had time to peer through the cracks between his fingers before he felt the softness of Tony’s lips pressing to the head of his cock. He groaned and dropped his hands, moving just enough to grip the tabletop behind him. “Doesn’t seem like… much of a reward for _you_.”

“Hush up, Rogers,” Tony mumbled, the words vibrating against sensitive skin before everything devolved into the the feel of _hot_ and _wet_ and _want_. 

“Fuck,” he growled, his hand clenching around the edge of the worktop, knowing it could take a lot but still feeling the slight give of the metal beneath his fingertips. Distantly, he heard the soft affirmative sound Tony made, nearly drowned out by the gentle noises of his mouth and the whimpering moans tumbling from Steve’s own lips. “Tony…”

His hand moved to tangle in dark locks, barely resisting the urge to buck his hips forward. The whole thing was obscene, watching as Tony lavished attention on his dick while the rest of him remained covered with Captain America regalia. 

“Tony, stop. I’m gonna…” Steve could feel his cheeks blaze an even brighter shade of red as Tony glanced up at him through his lashes, a goddamn _smirk_ quirking the corners of his lips where they were stretched around Steve’s cock. Tony made another soft noise around the mouthful and the resulting vibrations were enough to make Steve bite down on his lip so hard he could taste the coppery tang of blood. He tipped his head back and pulled at the dark tangle of hair between his fingers but Tony just swallowed him down and lurched him over the edge so fast he felt like he was falling. 

Steve came back around to the sensation of Tony drawing away from him, offering a gentle press of his tongue to the underside of Steve’s cock in way of apology. It sent another shudder through Steve’s spine.

“Jesus, Tony…” he whispered, leaning heavily against the workbench as he collected himself. “C’mere.” Steve waved his hand, drawing Tony near enough to wind an arm about his waist, fingers settling just below the hemline of his shirt. He nestled his face into the curve of Tony’s shoulder, inhaling deep. “Just… give me a minute.”

“Actually…” Tony murmured, trailing off in a way that made Steve lift his head to see why. A flush was covering the arches of Tony’s cheekbones. “I’m good.”

Steve raised a brow. “You’re… good?”

“Yup.”

“Good as in…?”

“Damn it, Rogers, are you going to make me say it?” There was a pause and then Tony huffed out a sigh and buried his face against Steve’s pec. “I’m good, as in sucking your dick, more specifically the _noises_ —fuck, Steve, the god damned _noises_ —you made while I was sucking your dick, made me come in my fucking pants like a teenager.”

Steve could practically _feel_ the heat of Tony’s blush through the material of the uniform. He barely managed to stop himself from beaming. “You’re… welcome?”

“Damn right you are,” came the grumbling reply. “...I need a fucking shower.”

Steve couldn’t help it, he barked out a laugh. The indignant look on Tony’s face was definitely worth the swat on the arm and the glare he got in return.


End file.
